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“You dislike her?”

“Very much.”

“Your father was a widower?”

“Yes.”

“When did he marry his present wife?”

“About two years ago.”

“Are there any other children?”

“No. His widow has a grown son, however.”

“Was this last marriage a success? Was your father happy?”

“No. He was very unhappy. He realized he’d been victimized. He would have asked for an annulment, or a divorce, if it hadn’t been for his dread of publicity.”

“Go on,” Mason said. “Tell me just what you want me to do.”

“I’m going to put my cards on the table,” Charles Sabin told him. “My legal affairs are handled by Cutter, Grayson & Bright. I want you to co-operate with them.”

“You mean in the probate of the estate?” Mason asked.

Sabin shook his head. “My father was murdered. I want you to co-operate with the police in bringing that murderer to justice.

“My father’s widow is going to require quite a bit of handling. I think it’s a job that’s beyond the abilities of Cutter, Grayson & Bright. I want you to handle it.

“I am, of course, deeply shocked by what has happened. I was notified yesterday afternoon by the police. It’s been very much of an ordeal. I can assure you that no ordinary business matter would have brought me out today.”

Mason looked at the lines of suffering etched on the man’s face, and said, “I can readily understand that.”

“And,” Sabin went on, “I realize there are certain questions you’ll want to ask. I’d like to make the interview as brief as possible.”

Mason said, “I’ll need some sort of authorization to...”

Sabin took a wallet from his pocket. “I think I have anticipated your reasonable requirements, Mr. Mason. Here is a retainer check, together with a letter stating that you are acting as my lawyer and are to have access to any and all of the property left by my father.”

Mason took the letter and check. “I see,” he said, “that you are a methodical man.”

“I try to be,” Sabin told him. “The check will be in the nature of a retainer. Do you consider it adequate?”

“It’s more than adequate,” Mason said, smiling. “It’s generous.”

Sabin inclined his head. “I’ve followed your career with a great deal of interest, Mr. Mason. I think you have exceptional legal ability and an uncanny deductive skill. I want to avail myself of both.”

“Thanks,” the lawyer said. “If I’m going to be of any value to you, Mr. Sabin, I’ll want an absolutely free hand.”

“In what respect?” Sabin asked.

“I want to be free to do just as I please in the matter. If the police should charge someone with the crime, I want the privilege of representing that person. In other words, I want to clear up the crime in my own way.”

“Why do you ask that?” Sabin said. “Surely I’m paying you enough...”

“It isn’t that,” Mason told him, “but if you’ve followed my cases, you’ll note that most of them have been cleared up in the courtroom. I can suspect the guilty, but about the only way I can really prove my point is by cross-examining witnesses.”

“I see your point,” Sabin conceded. “I think it’s entirely reasonable.”

“And,” Mason said, “I’ll want to know all of the salient facts, everything which you can give me that will be of assistance.”

Sabin settled back in the chair. He spoke calmly, almost disinterestedly. “There are two or three things to be taken into consideration in getting a perspective on my father’s life. One of them was the fact that he and my mother were very happily married. My mother was a wonderful woman. She had a loyalty which was unsurpassed, and a complete lack of nervousness. During all her married life, there was literally never an unkind word spoken, simply because she never allowed herself to develop any of those emotional reflexes, which so frequently make people want to bicker with those whom they love, or with whom they come in constant association.

Naturally, my father came to judge every woman by her standards. After her death, he was exceedingly lonely. His present wife was employed in the capacity of housekeeper. She was shrewd, scheming, deadly, designing, avaricious, grasping. She set about to insinuate herself into his affections. She did so deliberately. My father had never had any experience with women of her kind. He was temperamentally unfitted to deal with her in the first place, or even to comprehend her character. As a result, he permitted himself to be hypnotized into marriage. He has, of course, been desperately unhappy.”

“Where is Mrs. Sabin now?” Mason asked. “I believe the paper mentioned something about her being on a tour.”

“Yes, she left on a round-the-world cruise about two and a half months ago. She was located by wireless on a ship which left the Panama Canal yesterday. A plane has been chartered to meet her at one of the Central American ports, and she should arrive here tomorrow morning.”

“And she will try to take charge?” Mason asked.

“Very completely,” Sabin said, in a voice which spoke volumes.

“Of course, as a son,” Mason said, “you have certain rights.”

Sabin said wearily, “One of the reasons that I have set aside my grief in order to come to you at this time, Mr. Mason, is that whatever you do should be well started before she arrives. She is a very competent woman, and a very ruthless adversary.”

“I see,” Mason said.

“She has a son by a former marriage, Steven Watkins,” Sabin went on. “I have sometimes referred to him as his mother’s stool pigeon. He has developed conscious affability as an asset. He has the technique of a politician, the character of a rattlesnake. He has been East for some time, and took the plane from New York to connect with the plane that will pick up his mother in Central America. They will arrive together.”

“How old is he?” Mason asked.

“Twenty-six. His mother managed to put him through college. He looks on an education only as a magic formula, which should enable him to go through life without work. As a young man he advocated a share-the-wealth philosophy as something which would reward him for living without making it necessary for him to engage in competitive work. After his mother married my father, she was able to wheedle him into giving her large sums of money which were squandered upon Steve with a lavish hand. He has reacted just as one would expect him to under the circumstances. He is now extremely contemptuous of what he refers to as the ‘common herd.’ ”

“Have you,” Mason asked, “any idea of who murdered your father?”

“None whatever. If I did have, I would try to dismiss it from my mind. I don’t want to even think of anyone whom I know in that connection until I have proof. And when I have proof, Mr. Mason, I want the law to take its course.”

“Did your father have any enemies?”

“No. Except... there are two things which I think you should know about, Mr. Mason. One of them, the police know, the other, they don’t.”

“What are they?” Mason asked.

“It was not mentioned in the newspapers,” Sabin said, “but in the cabin were certain intimate articles of feminine wearing apparel. I think those clothes were left there by the murderer, simply to swing public sympathy toward the widow.”

“What else?” Mason asked. “You mentioned something which the police didn’t know about. Was that...”